I Hope They Love You Like We Do
by probablyawful
Summary: Angel's life story from coming out to her parents in 1986 until that faithful Christmas Eve of 1989 where RENT starts. I couldn't write until her death, because I love her too much. First fanfic. Rated for language, violence and mature content!
1. Author's Notes

A/N:

RENT belongs to the great Jonathan Larson, may he rest in peace

The character of Andrea (Angel's sister) in this story is based on a girl I once knew by the same name. She was a Latina and so sweet I was nearly falling in love with her

Angel's grandmother is based on my own late grandmother who passed away a few months ago

Angel is a 'he' when he is out of drag and a 'she' when she is in drag

I hope I capture Angel's character in this

Bare with me, English isn't my mother tongue, so there might be some mistakes along the way

This story was slightly inspired by the song "Hair" by Lady Gaga… Don't ask me why, the story came to me through that song

There's no RENT fanfiction about Angel without Spanish in it, but I don't speak a word Spanish unfortunately, so all the Spanish sentences are from Google Translate, jacked as it sounds. If any of you know Spanish better than I do (most likely), feel free to correct me!

Yes, the Roger Andrea's crushing on, is Roger Davis, the one and only. I love him so much; I couldn't let him out of this story.

This Angel was born in 1968. His sister is two years older, born in 1966. Roger's her age. Mimi is two years younger than Angel, born in 1970.


	2. The preparation

1986

He had done it. She had done it. She had dressed up in her big sister Andrea's clothes and gotten help to put her make up on perfectly. Andrea was standing behind her, looking at her new-painted face in the mirror.

"Angel, you look gorgeous," she smiled, revealing a flawless set of white teeth. Angel smiled as well, pretty much the same flawless smile.

- "You know, Angel," Andrea said truthfully, - "You really look very convincing as a woman. And so much older! One should think you were twenty, not eighteen!"

Angel had to giggle. "Really?"

She took a look at herself in the mirror. Maybe Andrea was right? She looked really good. Angel turned to her with a satisfied grin. "It's all thanks to you, sister."

Impulsively Andrea grabbed her sister's hand. "But Angel," she said and immediately hesitated, unsure of how to put your words. Angel squeezed her hand reassuringly.

- "What is it?"

Andrea took a deep breath. "Are you sure you're ready for this? I mean… You know mom and dad, they're…"

- "I know," Angel said, - "But I've been waiting for eighteen years now, I can't hide this anymore."

Andrea smiled her same truthful smile. "Alright," she said quickly, - "But remember that no matter what happens your big sister will always be here for you, right? No matter what those two fossils out there will say…"

She took a deep breath, before finishing the sentence: "… or do to you, I will always be here, no matter what."

Angel gave her a weak smile and stood up, standing a head taller than her in high heels. "I know that," she smiled and pulled her sister into a warm embrace Andrea knew only Angel could give. When Angel finally pulled away, Andrea took another deep breath. "Angel, aren't you scared?" she asked, looking at her sister with amusement in her eyes. Angel grinned a little.

- "Well, of course I am," she admitted, - "But what damage can they possibly to do me? They can't kill me, either."

"_Don't say that," _Andrea thought, but all she could do was shrug and say: "Well, there are the wounds and hate words and exorcisms."

She gave away a weak smile, just to make her sister sure she was kidding. But deep down inside she knew what she had said wasn't necessarily far away from the brutal reality her baby sister soon would have to face. She knew more than Angel did about her parents. She just had never had the heart to tell her. Angel was a too loving and trusting person to be able to handle or even believe the entire truth about the people who had raised her. Andrea wanted so badly to tell her everything, but now they had definitely reached a point where that had begun to become a little too late. Andrea could have kicked herself for not having told sooner, but instead she had let Angel find out the hard way. But what was done was done, and sooner or later Angel would forgive her. If she only had told her that day… That day four years ago, when Angel was fourteen.


	3. That day

_Flashback_

_It was the day Angel had come out to her. 4__th__ of June 1984. It was also the time Andrea had been trying with all her might to play the guitar. She didn't really know why, but it had something to do with the hot new guy in her school who played guitar. She didn't know for sure, but she thought she had heard his name was Roger. No matter what the cute guy's name was Andrea was sitting in the garage, practicing on some basic chords on her new guitar. Her dad had been nice enough to buy it for her without asking for any reasons why. His family was fairly talented when it came to music, so Andrea's new obsession with the guitar didn't confuse him a bit. He should be happy he didn't hear all the sour chords that were coming from the garage every now and then._

_That day Angel had barged right in on her while she was playing her guitar as well as she could. He had a slight frown on his forehead as he entered, but he didn't say anything. Andrea, on the other hand, was furious. She immediately got up and yelled: "Angel! What the hell, you know you can't just burst in on me like that! Quién demonios te crees que eres?"_

_Angel lifted her palms gently as if to calm his sister down a little. "I'm so sorry honey; I'll leave once I have told you something important."_

_Andrea sighed impatiently. "Well, tell me and do it briefly!"_

_- "I'm gay."_

Wow, that was fast… _Now was the time to react. Say something. Really, she wasn't shocked. She had almost taken it for granted that he was, and maybe that's why it confused her that he actually said it out loud. She put her guitar down almost instinctively as she started chewing her thumb nail slightly, thinking a little it seemed. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she removed the thumb and without changing facial expression, she said: "Good."_

_Angel frowned. "You think?"_

_Andrea thought about it for a while. "Yeah," she said, - "Now you won't become an asshole like Roger what's-his-name and all those other straight guys are!"_

_Angel chuckled a little. "Roger…," he said, almost tasting the name, - "That's what all this is about?"_

_He referred to the guitar. Now it was Andrea's turn to chuckle. He knew her too well. "Yes," she said almost defeated, knowing it would do her no good lying. Angel always knew when someone would lie. Angel laughed and shook his head. "What is a woman to do, huh?"_

_He immediately chewed his lip slightly, probably wondering if he should ever have said anything about knowing something about being a woman. Truth was, at most times, he felt more like a woman than a man himself. Luckily Andrea just smiled and shrugged._

_- "So who is this Roger anyway?"_

_Andrea sighed. "He is new in my school. And he is so hot I can't even stand looking at him, but if I don't, I'll freak out, and he doesn't even look at me… Angel, please kill me!"_

_Angel moved up to her and sat down. Both of their previous wishes for Angel to leave were long last gone. Angel rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said, - "But if he doesn't see what a pretty girl you are, then he is just blind, sweetie."_

_- "Pretty, huh?" Andrea chuckled ironically._

_- "Well, of course, honey," Angel said, - "After all, you look like me!"_

_That caused Andrea to laugh, and when she was finished, she took a look at her brother, and said: "Angel, you'd make such a pretty girl!"_

_And that was just the way it went. That day when Andrea sat out with her parents on the terrace talking about all or nothing, and Angel had borrowed some clothes from Andrea to try on, Andrea asked her parents all of a sudden: "What would you do if I or Angel turned out to be gay?"_

_She said it in the same joking way of hers. The joking way that slightly revealed that she was serious. She just had to know. Her parents would have to learn about their son's sexuality sooner or later. She had to know how to react when that day came. Pause for reaction._

_Well, her father looked like he had gotten a sword stuck in his throat and her mother looked like she wanted to escape. Was this the secret password or something? The secret password into 'parents in reality'-land. Apparently. "What the fuck did you just say?" her father nearly yelled as soon as he had taken the sword out. _

_Andrea was sure her hair had started moving violently from the wind he released when he yelled. She coughed slightly and repeated her question just as calmly. "I just wanted to know," she said._

_- "Honey…," her mother began, but her father interrupted: "No, Carmelita, let me answer this."_

_Carmelita let him and her father started his lecture: "Look, I don't know where that question came from and I am not sure if I want to know. But I will tell you one thing: If you came to me and told me you liked women, I wouldn't care that much. I wouldn't like it, but I wouldn't stop you. But if… my _son_ came to me and told he was going to be a daughter or something… Man, what would I do… I would beat him until he was convinced what he did was wrong, and if he still wasn't convinced, I would have kicked him on his ass out of my house forever!"_

Oh my God, _Andrea thought, _- My father is a monster!


	4. This is who I am

Andrea definitely hoped he had changed his mind by now. She shuddered. "Andrea, are you alright?" Angel asked concerned.

She snapped out of her own little time-travel and put on a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Good luck, Angel!"

Angel sighed. "I love you for standing up for me, you know that right?" she said, - "Thank you."

Andrea took a shaky breath and as Angel was on her way downstairs, she ran after her. "Angel!"

Angel immediately turned around. Andrea was about to say something. As a matter of fact, she knew she would hate herself for the rest of her life if she didn't blurt the story right out to Angel at once, but she couldn't. She simply couldn't. Angel would have to find out the hard way. And it was possible that her father had changed his mind… Or at least that he would react differently than he had told her that he would. It was possible, but not likely. So instead of saying anything, Andrea just wrapped her arms around her sister and kissed her cheek. Then she ran down the stairs and out the door. She had to get away. She couldn't bear listening to her father's yelling raised against her only sister, who also happened to be her only brother. She just couldn't! So she had to run away only for that afternoon.

Angel was standing at the top of the stairway looking down on her parents watching television in the living room. She bit her lip slightly. Hell, she had never cared about what people had thought of her before, why was that suddenly so important now? She had been dealing with bullying in school for as long as she could remember, then why was this so different? Because this was her parents, she decided. These weren't anyone to her. And she wasn't anyone to them. She was their son. Or their daughter, whichever you may prefer. They loved her, right? They loved her no matter who she was… Right?

There was just one way to find that out. She had to go down there in her emerald green dress and red wig and tell them just how it was. She was eighteen years old, she could do this. There was no reason to be afraid anymore. Her parents must have sensed (despite Andrea running out two minutes earlier) her high heels and expected it to be Andrea. "Andrea, that you?" Carmelita asked carelessly as she continued knitting and watching television. "It's A Wonderful Life". No, it wasn't. It was a life in a suburban prison.

- "No, mom," Angel said quietly, and she could have kicked herself for stuttering so much. Carmelita laughed. "Oh my God, Angel, what are you doing in high…?"

As she turned around, she said with her mouth hang open: "Heels… And dress… And wig… And make up… Angel, as much as I know you love Halloween, I have to break it to you that Halloween took place half a year ago."

Angel could feel her own eyes widen a bit, but she decided to stay calm. No matter what hurt her, she should stay strong. Her mother thought it was all a joke of course, and now her father had turned around as well.

- "Angel, what the hell are you wearing?" he asked, - "You're not four years old, go up and change!"

Angel took a deep breath and before she got to thinking, she had said: "This is who I am, dad."


	5. The reaction

Now she had said the five magic words. And they had been told truthfully. This was who she was and who she was meant to be. There were no doubts about it, no wondering. Then why was her father staring at her as if she had just thrown him off a cliff? And why was her mother staring at her as if she had gone deaf and never even heard she was speaking? And why did she suddenly care about their opinions? Why? She had decided to stay strong. Why didn't she?

"What?" her father's voice sounded like a slap to her face, -"Are you trying to tell me that God gave me a son and then turned him into a daughter? What the fuck is this?"

She took a deep breath as her father muttered:"You'd better tell me this is a damn joke, or I'm gonna…"

"What dad?" Angel asked, suddenly feeling brave as ever, - "What are you gonna do?"

Sure, she was scared. She had only seen her father lose his temper a few times, but when it happened it wasn't good. But right now she needed to take a moment for herself. If she got away from this untouched, or at least not with too many bruises, she would be living every day for everybody but herself, but right now, just this day in April of 1986, only this day was for her. Today was for her, and then tomorrow could be for anybody else. She didn't care for as long as she was allowed to be free.

She continued: "Dad. I am sorry to break it to you: I am gay, and yes, I also like to dress in women's clothes."

His father couldn't believe his own ears and by that he did the only thing he felt like doing in situations like this. He hurried up from the couch and headed for his new-found daughter. Angel watched him as if he was hurrying towards her in slow-motion. She noticed him raising his fist, the fist she had been afraid of, and in so many ways waiting for, for as long as she could remember.

The first beating went to her jaw. The burning ache made her back away a little, but she still stood her ground. She couldn't back down for him. Not now, where she for once in a lifetime really stood up for herself. Still, there was another ache with the physical one. A deep pain in her chest. Yes, some weight had been lifted, but now there was an empty room where her parents had been. As her father's foot went straight to her ribs, she could hear her mother's distant voice yell: "Lionel, please calm down…"

She also sensed him waving her off. The rest she couldn't recall. She felt feet all over her body, and the pains became more and more unbearable. Most of all she wanted to faint so she couldn't feel the excruciating pains, but for some reason she knew these pains from this memory would never fade away completely. She heard her father's distant hate words: "You fucking faggot! I don't want some fairy living at my place! Now you'd better tell me what you do is wrong, or you're not welcome in my home anymore! You're not allowed to see any of us again, you hear me?"

These were the last words he could hear before he blacked out.


	6. Tears in the night

Andrea Dumott Schunard was on her way home from her friend April. She knew that when she returned home Angel would be asleep and so would her parents hopefully. She was late enough as it was and even though she was twenty years old, her parents were quite strict when it came to returning home late. Mostly that had to do with them not wanting to be awakened.

This was not a good day for the young Latina. Not only had her brother come out of the closet that day, probably resulting to something their parents would call a disgrace, but April had told her she would be moving to New York with Roger, a Jewish young man named Mark and Mark's girlfriend Maureen to New York. A couple of others too, she had heard. When it came to Roger, Andrea had long since stopped crushing on him. April, on the other hand, was a different story. She was only twenty years old, and she had only been with Roger for one year. And it was New York. Who knew what that city could do to you? Andrea hated being stereotyped, but she had to wonder? What if anything happened to her? What if she never saw her again? New York was miles away, after all. She couldn't just drop by every weekend.

But now April wasn't her biggest worry. Angel was, and therefore she'd better hurry home.

As she was standing outside the door, ready to pick up her key, she was surprised to see that the door wasn't locked. Her parents hadn't gone to bed yet, which was weird because the clock had already stroke 1 am. She carefully opened the door and walked in. It wasn't going to be good.

"Mom, dad, I'm home!"

No answer, but her parents were still sitting in the living room. "Hello?" she asked, as if begging for recognition, - "What's going on?"

Of course she knew that their immediate silence had something to do with Angel. She wasn't stupid. But she decided that she'd better pretend like she didn't know anything, or God knew what would happen to their bond.

Her father took a deep breath, and right as he was about to speak, Andrea noticed the blood on the floor. "Mom?" she asked, demanding an explanation from the sanest part of her rather absurd and hateful family. Of course she knew what her father had done to her sister. She felt sick just thinking about it.

When she got no response from her mother, she turned to her father. "Dad, what did you do to him?"

Lionel took a deep breath. "Andrea, don't ask right now. Go to your room and we'll talk about this tomorrow."

Andrea snorted, slightly losing her temper piece by piece. "Tomorrow?" she asked sarcastically, - "You've beaten your own son until he was bleeding, and you tell me to talk about it tomorrow?" As the words flooded from her mouth, she realized the true meaning of them and it made her sick to her stomach.

"Dad, you're a fucking animal!"

He could do whatever he wanted now. She had told him exactly what she thought of him. No, not quite. She had so many juicy words to use for him, but if he beat Angel this badly only for him dressing in women's clothes, then she didn't dare think of what he would do to her if she told him right to his face exactly what she thought of him. She decided to let it be, and lucky her he didn't lose his temper.

She walked upstairs, but instead of heading for her own room, she went into Angel's room. Thank God, he was still there. For a moment she had thought he had been kicked out at once, but he hadn't. He was still lying in his bed, looking so peaceful. But still it was painful to look at him. He had a couple of diligent bruises on his head and face, and his green dress was soaked in blood. His wig had been removed. He looked beautiful. She reached out a hand and touched his forehead. "My dear Angel, what has he done to you?" she whispered, and realized immediately that her voice was shaking.

Right as she started crying, she could catch a glimpse of Angel's eyelids moving. He was awake. Suddenly he grabbed her hand and whispered: "Andrea…"

His voice broke her heart. He sounded so vulnerable, so defeated, but she couldn't be happier to actually talk to him. "Andrea…," Angel whispered again, but this time his voice was more determined, - "Andrea, don't cry…"

That only caused her to cry even more. Even in his darkest hours Angel thought of others before himself, and now he really needed her but she didn't know how to comfort him. Angel continued: "Don't cry… You'll… My… Our father, he will… If he finds out you know about me before, he will… He won't let you see me again."

He blinked harshly to avoid the tears and Andrea couldn't believe her own ears. "He said that?" she asked, - "For real?"

Angel nodded. "And he said… He said that if I wasn't out of this house by tomorrow morning, he wouldn't let you see me either."

A soft sob escaped Andrea, and Angel reached out a shaking hand to wipe away her tears. "Wanna sleep here tonight?" he asked with a weak smile, - "It's our final night here, after all."

His words hit Andrea like a bullet. He was right. Their father couldn't be serious? Could he…? He could. Andrea nodded. "Sure," she said and crawled up in bed with him.

"It's a little messy here but…," Angel said, referring to the blood.

Andrea shook her head. "It's alright," she whispered, and then she patted his shoulder, - "How are you feeling?"

By that Angel started crying. He had stayed calm all day, never even shed a tear, but now he broke down. "I'm sorry…," he whispered, and Andrea pulled him tighter.

"For what?" she asked.

"For everything," Angel admitted, - "For being who I am, I guess… Who can love me if my own family can't?"

Andrea shook her head. "Angel, I love you," she said, and thought about it for a while. Then she said: "And grandma loves you…"

Angel took a shaky breath. "Where am I to go, Andie?"

Andrea thought for a long while, and then she snapped her fingers. "New York," she insisted.

Angel frowned. "What?"

Andrea was excited now. "Why not? My friend April is going there with some friends as soon as September comes along. I think it would be a great opportunity for you. There are people like you there!"

She couldn't really put her finger on why she suddenly seemed so excited about April moving to New York, but what wouldn't she do for her brother's sake, right?

Angel took a deep breath and thought about it for a while. Then he turned against her and smiled. "You know what, Andie?" he said, - "I think you're right."

A huge grin appeared on Andrea's lips, but it soon faded away. "Do you have any money?"

Angel smiled weakly and nodded. "I saved up a little in case I would need it. All I have to do is get a job, and then I will be able to afford an apartment."

Andrea frowned. "But Angel…," she said hesitating, - "You can't live on the streets of New York all by yourself… So much can happen there!"

Angel sighed. "I'm afraid I don't have any other choice, do I?"

Andrea bit her lip, and then she finally gave in. Angel was unstoppable when he first had made up his mind. "You're eighteen years old, do as you please." She sounded almost defeated as she said that.

Angel gave a wide smile which she couldn't resist giving in return. They lay there for quite a while until Andrea carefully ran her hand over one of Angel's many bruises. This one was located on his shoulder and was the same size as a fist. Angel flinched a little at the touch, but he quickly calmed down.

"Lionel should be proud of himself, huh?" Andrea said silently. It was the first time she had spoken of her father by name.

"Huh?" Angel asked, not quite understanding what she meant.

"Our father," Andrea said, - "He should be proud of himself for beating up a girl."

There it was again. Andrea's same joking grin, that always revealed that she was serious. Angel giggled. "I think we both know that my body is nothing like a woman's body," he laughed.

Andrea laughed with him and shook her head. Then she suddenly gave in to a yawn that was befalling upon her. "We should go to sleep. Sorry to wake you up," she said.

Angel nodded. "Don't be… It was my fault you had to."

When Andrea woke up the morning after, both her brother and sister was gone. All that was left was the green dress that was soaked in blood and the red wig. On the table beside her lay an envelope, reading in block letters: ANGEL. She had always thought that name fit him so perfectly. Actually, it had been her who had made that name up for him. She had said when he was born: "He looks just like an angel."

And then Angel it was. She opened the envelope and read the letter Angel had written, tears now already streaming down her face:

_Dear Andrea,_

_By the time you read this I will already be on my way to New York City._

_I know that you probably will get real mad at me for not waking you up, but you looked too peaceful, I just couldn't._

_Besides, if our dear, loving, accepting parents (yeah right) find out that we have been spending the night in my room, it will only be worse for us both._

_Still, I'm sorry._

_I'm sorry I won't get to talk to you as often as I want to, I'm sorry we probably won't see each other in a very long time, and I am sorry that I'm leaving this rat hole before you even got the chance._

_Get yourself an apartment outside this house's four walls, please. For your own sake._

_Otherwise, I just want you to know that I love you so much and I hope to see you as soon as we can._

_I love you, my dear sister. Thank you for everything._

_Angel_

By that Andrea fell down onto the bed again and cried.


	7. Saturday nights

**A/N: Here comes what makes this story worth the M rating. This part was hard to write, but bear with me, alright?**** I am sorry for making Angel go through this. *Hides from Angel throwing platform shoes at me*!**

One year later, April 1987.

Angel had turned 19 now, but life wasn't sunshine and rainbows. Sure, she had gotten a few jobs through the year and he had earned enough money for an apartment. The rent, however, was a different case. As was food. She often happened to be forced to choose between eating and shelter. Why she always got fired from the small jobs she had gotten, she couldn't quite say, but it might have had something to do with her sexuality. No matter if she didn't dress in drag at work, she decided she just oozed gayness and that was why she always seemed to get fired.

That day in April she hadn't eaten anything in nearly a week, and needless to say, she was starving. Her weight had increased to 110 pounds. As she was walking around in New York City, nearly waiting for faith to step in, a gay club suddenly came into view. She had no idea why she walked in that direction, and later in her life, she would wish she never had, but right then and there the lust for something to eat won the fight easily.

In the doorway stood a man. Muscular, six feet tall and glaring her up and down, undressing her with his glance. She shuddered. "How old are you?" he asked.

Her eyes widened a bit, probably because of how frightening his voice sounded. "Nineteen," she answered. She was usually clever at lying about her age, but she didn't dare with this man in front of her.

He grinned and nodded. "Be careful," he suddenly said, - "The boys are gonna be wild about someone like you."

She was slightly surprised by his warning. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. She smiled politely and thanked him before walking in.

As she was seated in the bar, she couldn't help but wonder what the hell she was doing there. She was nineteen years old; she probably had more possibilities when it came to finding a job. This was ridiculous; she hadn't even had sex before. Yes, she knew it sounded ridiculous. A nineteen-year-old who never had sex in her life, but the opportunity had, needless to say, never showed up in her old town and in New York… Well, she'd struggled with other things. Been too busy.

And now she was seated here about to lose her virginity to someone she for sure didn't know and who didn't want to give her anything but a huge amount of pain and a feeling that she wasn't worth anything. She was actually about to change her mind and walk right out when two men approached her.

She could feel her hand shaking as she put down her drink. Her heart beat her senselessly. Two men? She couldn't do that. Unconsciously she wrapped her arms around her body, almost hugging herself. This only caused the two men to grin even wider. _The doorman was right, _she thought, - _Innocence is turning people on here._

The men were about forty years old and looked like they had spent the past twenty years living at a McDonalds. "Hey sugar," one of them said, leaning so close he was almost kissing her. He smelled of sweat, alcohol and smoke. Beautiful. She flinched a little but not too much. She needed the money, didn't she?

The other one leaned forward and touched her cheek, letting his hand move down to her chest and underneath her dress, caressing her nipples. She looked away as his rough hands caressed her body. She wanted to cry, but she guessed her tears could wait. "I wanna try this one," the other one said.

The way they were talking about her made her sick to her stomach, but she couldn't leave now. Besides, if she did, what would they do to her? She didn't dare to think about it.

Before she knew they had walked upstairs, one of the men's hands caressing her body as if the boobs and certain other body parts were there. She hated it.

When they had walked into a room, the men told her to lie on the bed. She hesitated but did as she was told. As the men started to undress themselves she had to close her eyes. She again sensed the smell of them on a much higher level this time, and suddenly she heard a slapping sound and felt a burning ache on her right cheek. "Open your eyes, whore, you're gonna feel this!"

She struggled to keep the tears from flowing over immediately. The man removed her dress easily, and she turned away slightly as she noticed the disgusting grin on his face. He started kissing her body, going from her neck, to her chest, down to her abdomen and finally between her legs. She felt dirtier by every kiss, and she was close to hating herself for not being able to control her body from reacting to what was done to her. This was a job, she shouldn't enjoy it. And she didn't either… She wanted to run away and cry somewhere, then why was her manhood working against her will?

The man grabbed her underwear and pulled it down, causing her to whimper a little. Then she felt him separating her legs and placing himself between them. _Just do it, _she thought, - _Please, then it will be over._

Her wish was obeyed. The man pushed into her roughly with no mercy at all. She inhaled sharply as he pushed further into her, moving in a steady, but all too fast and harsh rhythm. She felt tears of pain flowing down her cheeks, but fortunately none of the men seemed to notice. She could just tell she was bleeding.

She couldn't really place how long it lasted or what really happened, but she could hear the pleasurable panting from her captor. Finally she felt something erupt inside her, but before she could taste the relief of him pulling away, the other man grabbed her and placed her over the table nearby.

"No more," she whimpered silently, praying none of them would hear. That was needless to pray for. "Of course you'll get more!" the man who stood behind her yelled, - "I have to get my pleasure as well."

He turned to his friend. "Was she any good?"

"Hell…," the friend answered, still out of breath, - "One of the greatest fucks I ever had."

Angel felt a bruising grip on her hips, and then the same excruciating pain of someone pushing into her. "Oh God, she's tight man," the man behind her moaned, and then followed the same routine: The hard thrusts, her whimpering that later turned to silent sobbing and the moans from the man behind her, telling her how good she was.

She felt dirty, she felt used and she felt worthless. Stripped of dignity in one of the worst ways.

When finally the man erupted inside of her, she fell to the ground crying. "Oh, don't fucking cry, you asked for this!" the first man yelled.

He threw a wad of cash at her which she felt no use in counting, and then they left. She was left crying, wondering why she didn't do anything to stop them. She wished she wouldn't have to do this anymore, but that was only wishful thinking.

The same two men came back every night she showed up at the club (even though she didn't show up there unless she really needed money), the methods always getting more and more brutal.

It went on like this for half a year, until Angel suddenly started feeling sick with a cough and nausea that wouldn't go away easily.


	8. Last day at work

**A/N: Dearly beloved reviewers! I am glad to represent you the first**** long chapter in this fic where also Angel is her own true self. Enjoy!**

November 1987

Angel was seated at the hospital. She was shivering slightly, but deep inside she nearly hoped the test came out positive. Meant she would have to quit her job. She drummed on her legs with her fingers slightly, as she impatiently waited for the nurse to come out and call her name.

Beside her sat a man in his mid-thirties. He was tall and thin and wearing a suit. He looked quite sad, almost defeated. He slowly raised his head and Angel smiled carefully at him. He smiled back and it made her happy. It wasn't often strangers smiled at her, at least not those older than her.

The man coughed a little. "Excuse me," he said, but Angel just shook her head. The man apparently wanted to start a conversation, so he simply asked: "Why are you here?"

Angel smiled weakly. "HIV test."

The man's eyes widened. Angel expected him to judge her, but she didn't really bother. It was his loss. He didn't judge her, he just said apologetically: "I'm sorry. Hope they turn out negative, then."

Angel grinned. "I don't."

The man frowned. "Why not?"

Angel sighed. "If it comes out positive I'll have to quit my job, feel me, honey?"

The man thought about it for a while, and then a slightly shocked expression appared on his face. "Oh, I see," he said, nearly dumbfounded.

Angel laughed a little. "I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable."

The man shook his head. "No, not at all, I just… Again, I'm sorry."

Angel chuckled. "Well… I'll try to make the best of it either way," she said. Then she turned to the man again. "And you? Why are you here?"

The man took a deep breath. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Angel shot in.

The man nodded. "Yes… You see…," he hesitated, - "I have a four year old daughter who's ill… With longue cancer… I am here to get some information and such…"

Angel's jaw fell a little and she noticed a tear falling down the man's cheek. "Oh here, honey," she said quickly, handing him a tissue from her purse.

"Thanks," the man answered, - "I'm sorry."

Angel shook her head. "No, don't be!" She shook her head again, disbelievingly. "God, that's awful… I guess this is a stupid question, but how bad is it?"

"The nurses are saying she is lucky if she manages beating it… They caught it really late. It was a… It was a fucking mistake from the hospital really! We came here with her a year ago and they told us it was nothing… Now it might be too late."

The man's voice cracked and Angel hesitated before putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. The man didn't flinch. "Four years old," Angel said silently, as if still not believing it.

The man nodded. "Yes," he said quietly.

Angel again shook her head. "What can she possibly have done to deserve that?"

The man shook his head as well now. "That's what I don't understand either," he said, burying his face in his hands. Angel removed her hand and they sat like that until a nurse came in.

"Mr.… um…. Miss Schunard?"

Angel smiled weakly. "It's 'Miss' today," she said, grateful the nurse actually paid attention.

The nurse smiled and said: "You can come in now."

Angel nodded, and said to the man: "Well, I wish you the best, to you and your family…"

The man looked up and if having an epiphany, he reached for his wallet. He handed her a wad of cash which appeared to be three hundred dollars. "Here, for your medicine and hospital trips in case everything goes wrong."

Angel's eyes widened. "Sir… I… I can't accept that. It's too nice, you need it for your daughter's operations and…"

The man interrupted her: "Please, Miss Schunard. Accept it. If not for medicine, for you being such a kindhearted person. You deserve it."

Angel bit her lip not to burst out in tears, if not from happiness, from all the damage the world had brought this man and his family through. She sighed and nodded. "OK. Thank you so much! Your daughter is lucky to have a father like you."

She squeezed his hand and walked in with the nurse, not getting the thoughts away from the man who tried so hard to keep his family together. She wished she had a father like that.

"Miss Schunard," the doctor said as Angel was seated in her room. She sighed. "We've gotten your test results back, and now I want you to know that no matter what these results are…"

"It was positive, wasn't it?" Angel interrupted.

The doctor's jaw fell slightly, and then she nodded. "Yes," she said, and gave Angel a paper sheet which told her everything; she had AIDS, that was clear, T-cell count, AZT, monthly visits to the doctor, side effects, etc, etc. She just nodded as she read the paper over and over again.

"I'm sorry, Miss," the doctor said.

Angel smiled. "It's OK, honey."

The doctor shook her head. "No, it's not, I mean…" She sighed. "I hope you'll get through this well."

"How bad is it?" Angel asked, realizing she had asked that question twice that day already.

The nurse sighed. "It's not good…"

"Please," Angel said, - "How long do I have left, approximately?"

The doctor sighed again. "I can't say anything exact, but who you have caught it from…"

Angel suddenly felt sick. And this wasn't because of the physical illness that had befallen upon her. Suddenly she remembered who gave it to her. Two men who only had caused her pain and humiliation. She snapped out of her thoughts. She had to listen now, this was important.

"Who you have caught it from has had AIDS for quite a while, it is weird you got the symptoms now and not earlier… If I should say how long you have left, I would guess a couple of years, maximum three…"

Angel's eyes widened. In two years she would be twenty one. It would be November of 1989… Three years, if she was lucky, then it would be 1990. She would be twenty two. She bit her lip not to scream.

And this was because of one stupid mistake she made this year! How could she let them do those things to her? No… This wasn't her fault… She couldn't blame herself for this. The only people she could blame were those two men… It disgusted her she didn't even know their names.

"Thank you, doctor," she said as she stood up and walked out. In the doorway she stopped and smiled. "I love your hair, by the way."

The doctor smiled widely. "Thank you, Miss. And remember you can talk to me whenever you want to."

Angel nodded. "I will."

And by that she was out the door, on her way to the club she hated so much with all her heart.

It was actually open, even the clock wasn't more than six pm. She walked in, saying hi to the doorman who turned out not to be so bad after all. He had saved her for some really uncomfortable circumstances on the club a couple of times. "You're early today," he grinned.

Angel nodded. "Got some unsolved business."

The doorman looked like he thought for a while. "Alright, enjoy yourself."

_Oh, I will, _Angel thought. The question now was if her two costumers were here already. For all she knew they could only come there for her. But that wasn't likely.

There they were; huddled in a corner together with some poor boy who didn't look like he was more than fifteen years old. "Hey!" she said, realizing her strong voice would be impossible for them to recognize. Still, she had spoken with such a maturity that made it impossible for them not to pay attention.

They both jumped a little at the sight of her, standing with more confidence than ever, but then their satisfied, disgusting grins were back. "Hey, baby…," one of them said, walking up to her. As he was about to kiss her, she asked: "How long have you had AIDS?"

They both looked at each other, shocked beyond belief it seemed. At the same time Angel made sign for the fifteen-year-old to move away. He mouthed a 'Thank you' and she nodded reassuringly.

"Answer me," she said to her clients.

"How do you know?" one of them asked.

"Because now I've got it myself, and there are only two men I could have gotten it from!"

She nearly yelled now. "Oh, sugar… When we have AIDS and you have AIDS, then that's no big deal anymore!"

Angel frowned in disgust. "You're a monster," she said, - "Both of you!"

As she walked away, the two men grabbed a hold on her, and as she was in one's arms, she lifted her legs and kicked the other harshly in the chest. Platform heels serve as a good weapon. Out of shock the man holding her let go of her and she turned around, smiled a little and punched him in the face.

"You can fuck yourself instead!" she yelled, blew them a kiss and walked out with everybody's eyes glaring at her, some in amusement, others in fear.

"Cool!" the doorman, who seemed a little out of place, said.

She grinned weakly. "I didn't even know I was capable of doing that."

The man took a deep breath and sighed defeated: "Guess I won't see you around here anymore."

Angel shrugged. "Guess not."

The man nodded. "Good for you… Though, it is sad… You're a pretty little thing."

Angel smiled widely. "I know!"

And by that she was out, leaving the past behind before it found a way to get to her heart… At least that was what she thought.


	9. Between the past and future

**A/N: Hello, my dear reviewers! This is the chapter in which Angel meets Benny. He isn't a complete asshole in this, because… I don't know… Maybe because he is so hot. Let's just say that! This is the part of RENT in which April dies, and it is being mentioned by Angel calling her sister for the first time since leaving.**** Angel also meets Mimi in this.**

One year later, December 1988

Angel and most others in East Village's new landlord was Benjamin Coffin III, but he still went by the name Benny. He had just gotten into a relationship with a woman named Alison Grey, who had a rich father, and that made him landlord.

Angel had never really talked to Benny. He just was there. She didn't mind him, but she thought he was quite insensitive when it came to the paying of rent sometimes. After quitting her job, she had returned to street drumming, which didn't give her the biggest amount of money.

One day she happened to walk right into him on the street. She simply wasn't looking. "Oh, I'm sorry, honey!" she said.

"No, that's fine," he smiled, and as he was about to walk away, he took a brief look at her and walked back. "Angel, is it?"

She was a little surprised he knew. "Yes?"

Benny nodded. "I just know you work at the club."

Angel felt her face flush red, but she just said: "Worked. How do you know?"

Benny shrugged. "I know everything."

Angel giggled a little. "You're scary, then," she said.

Benny nodded, but then went back to the topic: "What do you mean worked? You don't work there anymore?"

Angel shook her head. "AIDS."

Benny's eyes widened. "Oh my God… I'm sorry."

Angel nodded. "It's fine."

She was about to go when Benny grabbed her arm. "Angel… I have two friends who have AIDS. The first one, Collins, he is working at MIT now, and the second, Roger, a musician, he got it a couple of weeks ago… His girlfriend killed herself because she had it too. I know how damaged a life with AIDS can be, so… if you want to, I can let you get away with your rent quite easily… We'll make a compromise."

Angel smiled weakly. "It's too kind…"

Benny shook his head. "Not at all, it's the least I can do."

Angel nodded. "OK, I can't say no thanks."

Benny smiled, and said: "It's done."

Angel nodded. "Thank you so much."

As Benny was about to walk away, she suddenly remembered something he had said: _Roger… A musician…_

"Mr. Coffin!"

"Benny!"

She chuckled. "Benny… This Roger… What's his girlfriend's name?"

Benny looked at her for a long time, saddened. "April".

Angel was seated in her apartment, ready to call her sister. She dialed the number, but when someone answered, it was anyone but her sister. An old lady answered, in a voice that sounded very familiar. "Grandma?"

"Angel, querida, cómo se?"

"Estoy bien! Oh grandma, so much has happened…"

"I bet it has! I hear how your parents treated you, and I have let your father struggle with it ever since I moved in here. How my daughter could marry him is beyond me… But yes, as Andrea moved out, I moved in, and I am bothering them all the time, making them say they'd rather want you here, and then I say: 'Better go get her!'"

Angel had to laugh a little. "Oh my God, I'm sorry I haven't called earlier… But grandma, where is Andrea?"

"She moved to Massachusetts."

"Massachusetts?"

"Yes," Angel's grandma confirmed, - "To study at MIT."

"Oh… What is her number, I really need to talk to her?"

Her grandma gave her the number and then they hanged on.

"Andrea Dumott Schunard speaking?"

"Hi, Andie, it's Angel!"

There was a silence, and then a loud scream. "Oh my God, Angel! I've missed you!"

"I've missed you too, honey…"

"Jesus, what happened to you? I never heard from you?"

"It's a long story… Oh my God, so much has happened… Andrea!"

"Yes?"

"I've got AIDS."

Wait for reaction, wait for it… Crying was heard inside the telephone.

"My God, Angel… Why? How?"

"It's hard to explain… I… It doesn't matter. I have something else to tell you?"

She could nearly hear her sister wipe her tears. "What?"

"April…"

"Oh, her?"

"She's dead."

It was the best and easiest way to tell. Straight forward. "I'm sorry sweetie."

"Oh my God… How?"

"AIDS as well."

Andrea sighed. "It's more about who doesn't get it now. You know what?"

"No," Angel answered, slightly shocked by Andrea's sudden will to get over things easily.

"There's this really hot professor in my school!"

Angel frowned. "OK… What's his name?"

"Collins… Something Collins something, something… He's really hot, totally your type!"

Angel wondered if his sister had gone mental. "A hot professor? Is that possible? Is he old?"

"No, he isn't old at all! Isn't that something?"

"I guess…"

"And he's black. Come on Angel, we both know you're hot for black men!"

Angel giggled a little. "OK, then, maybe he is hot. But there isn't a chance in heaven or hell I'm gonna get him either way."

"Well, dreaming is legal," Andrea laughed.

The two sisters talked for three hours straight that day, both catching up like they had never been apart.

The next day Angel decided to get some shopping done. She had finally made enough money for a skirt she had found which she knew she was going to love more than anything, but right as she was heading from the mall back to her apartment, someone approached her:

"What have we here, a faggot in our territory?"

She rolled her eyes. She wasn't unfamiliar with this. As a matter of fact, she had heard it so many times she knew it by heart.

"I don't know if you're confused, but a boy isn't supposed to wear a dress!"

Angel stopped and sighed. Then she turned around. Behind her stood a skinhead, six feet tall with cross tattoos on his arms. "Can I help you?" she asked strictly, wondering what the matter with this guy was.

"Yes!" the skinhead answered, - "You can tell me what gender you are. You are not a man and you're not a woman! What are you?"

Angel shook her head and walked away, realizing he wasn't worth her time.

"Hey!" the skinhead yelled, - "I'm talking to you, I expect an answer! What are you?"

Angel stopped again, turned around and walked up to him, standing a few inches away from him, looking him straight in the eye. The skinhead blushed, probably from both the embarrassment and the fear.

Angel grabbed his shirt, apparently ripping off some of the skinhead's chest hair in the process. "I am more of a man than you'll ever be!" she said, and then she leaned forward, even closer to his ear. Intimidating for the skinhead, of course.

"And I'm more of a woman than you'll ever get!" By that she pushed him away with such a force he fell to the ground.

As she walked away, she heard another voice calling for her. "Hey!"

This time it wasn't the skinhead. This was girl's voice. Angel immediately turned around, just to catch glimpse of a young Latina, not much younger than herself. She had long, curly, brown hair and looked like she had seen healthier days. She was smiling, and that smile was one of the most beautiful smiles Angel had ever seen. "Yes?" Angel asked as politely as she could.

The girl ran up to her. "That was so cool what you did there. Hi, I'm Mimi… Marquez. But that isn't important."

Angel giggled a little. "Nice to meet you."

By that, she realized something. This girl… There was something about her. She would understand, sort of. This was the beginning of an everlasting friendship.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Angel."

Mimi smiled as if feeling like something fell into pieces. "Angel," she said, tasting her name, - "And what brings you to New York, Angel?"

Angel grinned a little. "My father kicked me out," she said, looking down, - "Or… My parents kicked me out. Didn't want some faggot living at their place."

Mimi's eyes softened and she placed a hand on her shoulder. That was the first comforting gesture anyone had given her since the last time she saw Andrea.

"I'm sorry," Mimi said sincerely.

Angel smiled. "It's fine, I mean… I'm fine now."

Mimi nodded as if she understood it all. "Doesn't it hurt you though?"

Angel frowned a little. "Doesn't what hurt me?"

Mimi gestured towards the spot where the skinhead had stood. "People like him. Such comments, discrimination… I bet that wasn't the first time."

Angel smiled and nodded weakly. "Yes," she said, - "It hurts me every time, just as much. But I can't let it get to me."

Apparently, next Mimi did what she thought was best. She pulled Angel into a hug so tight and warm it created a lump in Angel's throat. No one had hugged her like this in… She couldn't remember the last time anyone had hugged her like that.

When Mimi pulled away a couple of tears had found their way down Angel's cheeks. "Oh, Angel, what's the matter?" Mimi asked concerned, stroking her new friend's cheek gently.

Angel shook her head. "It's nothing really," she said, wiping a tear away, - "It's just…" She sighed angrily for not getting herself together properly. "It's just that I am used to not having anyone, and here you are being the first kind person I've met in a long time… God, this is ridiculous."

Mimi shook her head. "No, Angel, this isn't ridiculous. This is what makes you human."

They both chuckled a little. "Come on," Mimi said, - "Let's head for my apartment. Oh! I have to warn you: I am HIV positive, so if you are scared of that, you'd better not come to my place, in case I was about to fuck you in your sleep or something."

Angel had to laugh, both of the coincidence and Mimi's statement. "I'm sorry Mimi, and yeah… That's fine; I have AIDS myself, so…"

"Oh…," Mimi said, - "That's bad, how did you get it?"

Angel took a deep breath. "Prostitution."

Mimi stopped walking. "Now you wanna judge me, or what?"

Mimi shook her head and grabbed Angel's hand. "No," she said, - "No, not at all, I just… I'm sorry, Angel. That must've been awful."

Angel nodded. "It was. Glad I had to quit. And you? How did you get it?"

Mimi sighed. "Drugs. Tried to quit, but… It doesn't work you know… I just love the feeling of being free and all…"

Angel nodded. "I guess… I won't judge you after everything that happened to me, but please, try to quit, OK?"

Mimi nodded. "I'm trying… And oh! I know this group we can go to. It's called Life Support! It's for people with AIDS… And other problems, really. You can come if you have someone close, for instance, who have it. Then you can meet people who are treating you more kindly than this world has done until now!"

Angel smiled. "Sure, if I can go with you, that's fine."

Mimi grinned. "I know we're gonna be so good friends!"

Angel chuckled. "I hope so myself."

Mimi smiled even wider, and started bouncing down the road. "You know Benny?"

Angel nodded. "The landlord?"

"Yeah… I dated him once! It was a year ago or something… Isn't that something? He is a prick, really, but still… Let's just go to my place and gossip about all the boring men we've known. Cause you aren't straight, are you?"

Angel had to laugh. "Of course not!"

"Good," Mimi said, - "Come on! Let's go. Who gets there first will pick the movie!"

"You're never gonna catch me, chica!"

_Yes… The start of a wonderful, everlasting friendship._


	10. I love you

**A/N: Dear reviewers! The chapter you've all been waiting for is finally up. This is the chapter in which Angel meets Collins on Christmas Eve 1989 and I will write until Christmas Day, when they have shared a heated night in Angel's apartment. Sexual content the way we love it!**

One year later, 24th of December 1989

Angel was sitting near his block, drumming his plastic pickle tub. It had been more than two years since he took his HIV test and he was still holding on. Still, he knew he would never live to see the year of 1991. He had always been one to live in the moment, and that rule counted now even more than before. Since he had so little time… No, he didn't want to think about that right now. He had Mimi who loved him, and he had the people at Life Support. That was all he needed for a good life.

Besides, he was quite satisfied. That day a lady had showed up in a limousine and given him 1000 dollars for killing a dog. Life was smiling at him. Suddenly he heard the sound of someone handing him money. It wasn't much, but it was enough to be appreciated. "Merry Christmas!" he smiled after the people who had handed him them. It was really a merry Christmas.

Right then, as he continued his drumming, he heard a sound. Someone was coughing and the sound came from one of the back alleys. He shuddered. Too much damage had happened to him in back alleys, most of the damage ending up with him having to crawl to his feet in blood after having been beaten by some certain group of homophobes. Still, this was someone who needed help and why shouldn't he go see what was going on.

"Hello?" he yelled quietly, waiting for some kind of reaction. There was none. He walked with firm steps towards the alley and saw a man curled up in a ball against the wall.

"Oh my God, you okay honey?"

"I'm afraid so," the man answered. He looked up at him and Angel found himself staring right into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. The man was black, quite tall, well built and still he looked extremely kind. Protective. "Did they get anything, or…?" was all Angel could say.

The man shook his head. "I had no money but they took my stuff."

Angel reached for a tissue he was carrying, but the man waved it away. Angel accepted. It was an awkward silence for a couple of seconds that seemed like a couple of hours. "I'm Angel," Angel said only to break the silence. They had to get introduced somehow and Angel wouldn't let this chance leave him.

The man looked at him as if Angel had told him one of the most incredible things in the world. "My friends call me Collins… Tom Collins."

Angel suddenly relaxed. So this was the professor from MIT? _This is it, _Angel thought, _- I'm giving into destiny immediately._

"Come on," he said, - "Let's get you cleaned up."

He waited for Collins' reaction. If he left now, Angel knew that trying to find love ever in his life would be pointless. This was it, he knew it. Therefore he reached out a hand to help Collins to his feat. A painful groan escaped the taller man, but he had no troubles walking. Then Angel remembered something: Life Support! "Sort of have to hurry," he said apologetically, - "I have a Life Support meeting to go to."

Collins looked at him. "Life Support?"

Angel knew that now was the time to tell. He couldn't let it go. He had to be perfectly honest with this man. "Yeah," he said almost shyly, - "It's for people with AIDS" Then he added: "People like me."

He had gotten that label all too often. 'People with AIDS, people like you'. Collins could react any way he wanted. He had told.

"Me too."

What? Did he hear right? That was the most devastating, yet amazing coincidence he had ever faced. "Really?"

Collins nodded. "I used to sleep around a lot in college. When I was a student, that is."

Angel nodded. "Wanna judge me just a little?" Collins asked. Angel giggled, suddenly enjoying the fact that he was holding this man's arm. He shook his head. "With my back story I can't allow myself to judge."

Collins frowned. "And what is your back story, Angel?"

Angel took a deep breath. "I'll tell you when we get to my apartment."

[HERE I AM SWITCHING FROM ANGEL'S POV TO COLLINS' POV FROM ONE TIME TO ANOTHER]

They were inside Angel's apartment, and as they entered and Angel turned on the light, he said: "Well, make yourself comfortable. I'll just go change."

Collins walked over to the couch and sat down. _What the hell just happened? _he thought, - _How did this happen to me?_

He thought to himself that he'd better thank his muggers for beating him. They led him to Angel after all. Angel… That name wasn't his name, it was his identity. When he had been sitting on the couch for about twenty minutes, Angel came out… Angel? Well, he… or rather she had changed into an outfit which complimented her curves perfectly. A white blouse, black skirt and stockings that complimented her well-formed, muscular legs.

"My God, Angel…" Sure, he could've put up something better. Beautiful, marvelous, gorgeous, stunning. These were all words to describe Angel's beauty.

"Like it?" Angel asked, a mixture of excitement and anticipation showing up in her big, brown beautiful eyes.

"You're beautiful, Angel."

Angel's jaw fell a little. Had he really said that? That she was beautiful? He had. His words had echoed right through her heart and it made her want to cry. She had been called so many things throughout her life… Beautiful had never been a word for her.

"Really?" she asked, her voice wavering.

"Of course," Collins smiled widely.

Angel sighed relieved. "You're sweet," she said, and then she remembered why she actually had invited him over. She ran into the bathroom to get him some bandages and something to clean his wounds with.

Collins regarded every move she made. She was perfect. She carried herself with such grace and dignity he had never seen in one person. He hadn't even thought it was possible. She knelt down in front of him and said: "Now, undress."

Collins' eyes widened. "I can do that," he joked in a slightly perverted voice. Angel laughed and her face flushed red. "For me to clean your wounds, please," she chuckled.

Collins had to giggle. She was the cutest little thing he had ever seen. As he had taken off his pants and shirt for Angel to take a look at his wounds (and while he was still praying she wouldn't notice how happy his lower region was for this meeting), Angel's eyes grew wide at the sight of his wounds.

"Oh my God," she said, placing both palms on his legs, - "You've been badly beaten, now, haven't you?"

She was so beautiful, her brown eyes filled with such concern. He wanted to kiss her so badly. "I'll manage," he said.

She smiled at him. "Now, this is gonna hurt just a little… Just tell me if it hurts too much."

By that she started cleaning his wounds. He was amazed about how gentle her small hands were being. "Angel, you're good at this. How come?"

Angel took a deep breath. "I've been beaten a couple of times myself." She attempted a weak smile.

Collins sudden felt an urge to protect this wonderful… angel from whatever happened to her. He reached out and touched her cheek gently. "I'm sorry."

She looked up at him and smiled. "It's OK."

Angel was overwhelmed. This man's kindness for her was something she had never before experienced. Her heart swelled with love for him already. When she was done cleaning his wounds, he got dressed again and they sat down on the couch.

"So… How did all this happen, Angel?" Collins asked.

Angel looked at him and took a deep breath. Impulsively she reached for his hand. He grabbed hers and held it tightly, making her sure that he wouldn't let her down or something.

"You see…," Angel began, - "My family kicked me out as soon as I came out to them."

Collins' eyes got filled with concern. He stroked her hand gently with his thumb. Angel continued:

"And… When I moved to New York, I got fired from nearly every job I could get because… Well, I guess it was because I was gay."

Collins nodded reassuringly.

"So… To make a living, I…"

She couldn't say it. What would he think? No. She didn't care what people thought. But it was so dirty, she was so ashamed… Oh, to hell with it.

"I worked at this club… I… I used sex to get money… I was a virgin the first time."

She chuckled cold-heartedly and Collins moved closer, still holding on to her hand. "It's OK, Angel, I'm here."

She looked at him. Wasn't he disgusted? "Don't you think what I did was disgusting?"

Collins shook his head. "No, Angel," he said, looking straight into her eyes.

She took a deep breath, and said in a shaking voice: "I had these… two regulars… They came back every night I was at work… They… I guess they were about forty years old… I was nineteen…"

Collins eyes widened. "God, Angel… How afraid you must've been."

She nodded. "Every night was a fucking nightmare. I cried every day, I… They were too rough with me, Collins… They…"

She couldn't speak anymore. The tears she had longed so bad to cry out to someone were finally there and they wouldn't stop. "Oh Angel…"

Collins moved closer and pulled her into a hug. His strong, protective arms embracing her, sparing her from all the damage in this world. After having cried her heart out, she said:

"The memories won't go away, Collins… I feel so used, so… So dirty, I… I brought it on myself, I…"

"You didn't," Collins interrupted, - "You didn't have any choice, Angel. And those monsters should be happy I don't know who they are."

Angel attempted a slight chuckle and Collins reached out to wipe away her tears. Her face felt so warm and soft under his fingers. "It's just…," Angel began, - "Every day I have to be afraid they'll come back and rape me or something."

Collins sighed deeply. "I guess that's pathetic, huh?" Angel said.

Collins shook his head. "No, Angel, it's not pathetic. I would do the same if I was in your position."

After more hugs had been shared, Angel said relieved: "It was good letting that out. Just… To get to say it out loud without anyone judging me."

Collins smiled at her and cupped her face, staring into her eyes. "That's good, Angel," he said, - "But now, will you let me say something?"

Angel nodded. "Go ahead."

Collins cleared his throat. "I just wanted to say," he began, never looking away from her eyes, - "That I think you are amazing."

Angel blinked harshly to avoid more tears from flowing over. "You do?"

Collins nodded. "Yes. You are amazing and beautiful and just simply perfect in every way, Angel."

He leaned in to kiss her cheek. That did it. His warm lips on her skin, such a simple, yet loving gesture. Another tear fell from her eyes. "Angel, I think I'm falling in love with you," Collins said sincerely.

And then he kissed her lips. This was new. She had never been kissed like this. The last time anyone kissed her, it was those regular costumers of hers, and she wanted to throw up. Now she was in the arms of a man who had said he was falling in love with her and she was so in love with him she didn't know if she was alive or dead. She returned the kiss gladly and didn't hesitate when it became more passionate.

Without really knowing what she was saying, she whispered hoarsely: "Bedroom?"

She felt Collins grin against her lips. "Only if you want to, Angel."

Angel nodded. "I do."

As they entered the bedroom, Collins placed Angel on the bed and undressed. The pains from later were suddenly long last gone. Angel lay there admiring his body, admiring him in general. Collins reached for her white blouse and pulled it over her head, not without help from Angel. He moved to kiss her neck gently, and then going all the way down her body. This time she didn't hesitate the slightest. She felt her muscles tensing with pleasure as he reached further down on her. He removed her skirt and her stockings, and then only with eye contact he got permission to take the rest off.

Angel blushed slightly as Collins removed the rest of her clothing, and he moved up to kiss her lips. He placed a gentle hand on her cheek and whispered: "Are you OK?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, just keep on going."

Collins moved down on her and Angel gasped quietly as he took her in his mouth. "C-Collins…," she whispered out of breath, - "Y-you don't have to if you…"

Collins removed and looked in her eyes. "I want to."

Angel sighed, and let him go on. She had never had anyone doing this to her. She had never had anyone caring about her pleasure in the first place. She moaned loudly as Collins went deeper. "Oh God, Collins…!" she moaned. Then she felt it; the tingling feeling to orgasm. "Collins, I'm coming…"

Collins removed quickly, moving up to her and kissing her lips. "Are you ready?" he asked. She nodded and reached for the lubrication on her night table. She handed it to Collins as he prepared himself. She inhaled sharply as the warm liquid reached between her legs.

Then he got on top of her and looked deeply into her eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Angel nodded. "Yes, go ahead, but… Please, be gentle."

Collins smiled and kissed her again. "Of course, sweetheart."

"Oh God!" Angel gasped loudly as Collins entered her. The burning ache she was feeling in the beginning slowly faded away to pure pleasure.

"Does it hurt?" he asked her, but she just shook her head.

"No, please go faster!"

Collins chuckled a little and went faster. As he went deeper, both of their moans went more passionate. "Collins…!" Angel gasped as she came. A long line of pleasurable moans and Spanish curses escaped her lips. Collins came inside her as well, and when they were done, Collins lay down beside her, his arms wrapped around her small frame.

He kissed her shoulder blades and neck, whispering nonsense in her ears: "God, Angel… You're so beautiful… You're so wonderful… God, I love you so much…!"

Suddenly he felt Angel shaking beside him. "I love you, Collins," she whispered, her eyes filled with tears, - "You're so good to me… That was…"

She didn't have to say anything more, because Collins nearly drowned her in kisses. He cupped her face and kissed her lips. "I didn't know it could feel that way…," Angel admitted.

Collins pulled her tighter, but even that wasn't tight enough. "You deserved it, Angel," he whispered, - "You deserve all the love in this world."

It was just another night where Angel cried herself to sleep. This time the tears came from happiness. They were tears of love and compassion for the one person she had met and loved. And that was the way it was meant to be.

Angel had found her life's meaning. She had found love.


End file.
